Serenchea stank. There was no better way to describe it because it stank in every possible way. Terald wondered how people could live there. He felt so excited when Queen Esamne sent him there on his current mission. He heard marvelous things over the years about the technological advances. They supplied most of Telverin with cheap textiles made from their world-famous factories.
He didn't know what he had been expecting, but this wasn't it. The unnatural yellow-grey sky hung heavy with the scent of sulfur, which clung to his nostrils and the taste of rotten eggs sat on his tongue. Grey slabs of buildings lined the streets, each indecipherable from the others. The people seemed just as lifeless, shifting in lines from one anonymous door to another when an ominous bell rang. The steam plumed and rolled through the streets, giving Terald the sensation of having perspired through his clothing.
All of this alone was enough to make Terald hate Serenchea. However, the more he learned about his temporary home, the more it made Pescel seem like a true paradise in comparison. He always wondered why the factories never became popular in other countries. Why didn't Pescel just make its own textiles or mass produce products to sell to other countries? For many years, he thought it might be possible to bring so many Pesceleans out of poverty if they could copy what Serenchea was doing.
It never occurred to Terald that the real reason they could sell textiles for such a cheap price wasn't because of how efficient their steam-powered factories were. The ruling class here bonded every worker in servitude. Some came here to pay penalties for crimes. Some were simply born here as slaves, punished for the misdeeds of generations before them. Serenchea replaced its soul with a steam-powered factory. He realized now why Lady Pleffort left and why she refused to even speak of her experience there.
During his time in this country, he came to know the power players. After all, the queen of an affluent country had sent him here. No compassion shined from their eyes, which matched the cruel, sadistic lines acting as their joyless mouths. Despite wearing lavish outfits made from their cheap fabrics, nothing could make their sallow skin any more attractive. He wondered how none of them could see how tawdry they looked. Then again, none of them seemed to notice the smell either. Perhaps, when you've lived your entire life in a place like this, you become inured to its unpleasantness.
They held dances and feasts to celebrate anything. They could afford to since it didn't cost much to give their workers a cot and two meals of gruel a day. Still, he listened to them complain without end. They called their slaves lazy. They wondered what they could threaten them with to speed up production and make even more money.
"What more could you possibly take away?!" Terald wanted to yell, but he stayed silent to observe them.
He was supposed to meet one of the deceased Lord Pleffort's contacts at a party like this. He would know this person by their yellow silk hat. It would definitely stand out in this crowd. Hats were popular, but Serencheans preferred dark colors that hid the soot deposits, often clinging to the steam particles in the air around them. Terald had been to many of these gatherings and not spotted this person once. Tempted to give up and find some other way to carry out his mission, Terald spotted him.
The man looked like he might have Kandumes for ancestors. He had the height and fawn skin, but he cut his hair in the latest style, and he had a slender frame. The yellow silk hat flashed and contrasted beautifully against his dark figure. Terald found himself staring because he hadn't expected to meet someone so striking. When the man's onyx eyes met Terald's chocolate ones, they sparkled, and a crooked grin spread across his face. Terald felt brief arousal followed by a wave of guilt, remembering his dead lover. The man walked over, and Terald recalled his objective.
"You're new," the man said, leaning against the door frame near them. "I like new."
"I love your hat," Terald said, nodding at it, remembering his cues. "How do you keep it so clean? Can you teach me your method?"
"Ah," the man said, a flicker of disappointment crossing his handsome face. His flirtatious tone became monotone. "It's a secret, but for you, I'll make an exception. Let's meet at my place."
The man slipped a card into Terald's hand. Their eyes met again, but up close Terald could see flecks of grey in the dark eyes that entranced him. The man leaned in closer.
"If you want," the man whispered, his breath sending pleasurable goosebumps throughout Terald's body. "We can do more than talk about my cleaning method, but I'll leave that up to you."
"What's your name?" Terald asked.
"Careful, now," the man said, winking. "That's a dangerous question around here."
Terald glanced at the card in his hand. It was just an address and nothing else. This man, unafraid of the crowd noticing him, had no interest in someone knowing him. He tucked the card into his pocket and circulated the room to keep up the foppish persona he adapted to get along here.
When he returned to his suite, Terald took a closer look at the card. He felt impressed once again at how little information the card gave. He didn't know when to arrive at this place. He technically didn't even know who he would be meeting. Based on what the man had whispered, he thought it might be him, but that guaranteed nothing.
Despite feeling drained by the act he kept up all day, he decided to find the place on this card right away. He had been in Serenchea for days, waiting for this moment. He wasn't interested in staying here any longer than necessary. He took off his party clothes, grateful not to feel the itch of its fabric for a moment. He washed sulfurous steam off, knowing full well he would have to again when returning to his suite later, and then put on the clothes he acquired as Lady Pleffort's assistant. She spared no expense caring for her servants, and their clothes were no different. He thought he knew why it mattered to her so much after experiencing the nightmare that was Serenchea.
Not surprisingly, he had difficulty finding the location on his card. Every building looked exactly like the building before it. This wouldn't be so bad if the layout of the streets in this city made any sense. Whoever planned the town did not have the same kind of unimaginative and logical minds that built its industry.
After roaming for some time, he found an unremarkable door under the standard-issue building number. He double-checked the street name. He didn't want to knock on the wrong door again. After rapping at the door three times, there was silence. He sighed, ready to resume his search when the door slowly creaked open. A small, shrewd-faced girl peeked out at him. She had long black hair and amber eyes that narrowed skeptically at Terald.
"What do you want?" she asked, and Terald almost laughed. She looked adorable with her hand on her hip and a scowl on her face. She was ready to beat him up if need be. He held the chuckle in, however, and kept to his script.
"I have come for hat cleaning lessons," he answered, struggling not to smirk.
"Oh, that," she said, rolling her eyes and turning back inside. "Dad! Someone's here for your stupid hat business!"
She left the door ajar but wandered back inside, deciding Terald wasn't worth defending her home from anymore. He wasn't sure if he should just step inside. He considered it in silence for a moment when a familiar face appeared.
"Sorry," the man sighed breathlessly, "I was taking a bath."
Terald drank in the image of this man, shirtless now, wearing just some linen pants that hung loosely around his hips. He had a swimmer's body, like Brence's, which was precisely Terald's type. He had damp hair, and his skin glowed from a fresh scrub.
"May I come in?" Terald asked.
"Please do," the man said, gesturing inside.
Terald walked in and looked at the room around him with some surprise. He never imagined the dashing flirt at the party in a home like this. Potted plants sprouted up everywhere, all in excellent health. Colorful pillows and throws scattered all over comfortable furnishings provided the room with a bohemian feel. He could see a cozy kitchen beyond this receiving room, where dried herbs hung almost ornamentally.
"I was just about to cook," the man said, closing the door behind them. "Would you like to join us?"
"I would be honored," Terald answered.
"Sit anywhere you like," the man said, walking into his kitchen to rummage for ingredients.
Terald sank into the soft, downy pillows gathered into one corner. He almost feared he wouldn't be able to dig himself out. However, he felt so comfortable that he wasn't sure he wanted to leave that spot.
The man's daughter descended the stairs with two dolls. She sat down on the floor and played, casting the occasional mistrustful glance in Terald's direction.
"I'm not going to bite you," Terald said after a while.
"You're new," she said. "I don't like new."
Terald couldn't help but chuckle at how different she was from her father. Yet, he saw the resemblance here and there. Her hair and skin tone, the long fingers on her hand, she clearly got from her father. Her large amber eyes, however, that had come from someone else. He found himself wondering where her mother was. A savory aroma reached him from the kitchen, and he saw the man very focused on cooking. He felt his attraction growing, and he didn't know how to stop that.
"Is my daughter keeping you good company?" the man asked, not taking his eyes off his work. "Or is she giving you the usual guilty until proven innocent treatment?"
Terald stammered, not wanting to insult the little girl. Despite her open hostility, he found her endearing.
The man laughed and motioned for Terald to join him.
After some struggle, Terald got up from the cushions around him and made his way to the kitchen.
"You're wondering about me, about her," the man said in a low tone when Terald came near. "I can't blame you, but I'm afraid you'll have to keep wondering."
"I understand." Terald nodded.
The man smiled and continued stirring some buttery vegetables around in a pan with a sprinkling of dried herbs. In another pan, some meat seared, and the man flipped it over expertly. Terald's stomach growled loud enough for the man to look over at him.
"I have a hard time eating at those parties." Terald shrugged. "I find my appetite disappears in the presence of certain people."
"I can believe that," the man said, nodding. "Though, I recommend at least slipping some food out when you can, even if all you do is give it to someone who doesn't have the same luxuries you do."
"That's good advice," Terald said. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm out."
"Kid, you want some of this?" the man called out to the girl in the next room.
She shook her head.
"Your loss! You can't live on bread forever!"
The girl shrugged and continued playing with her dolls.
The man plated the meat and vegetables, moving the meal over to a small wooden table. Terald joined him in sitting down and happily took a bite of the delicious food in front of him.
"I understand not wanting to give names, protecting what you have here," Terald said.
"Then, why bring it up?" the man asked.
"I need something to call you, at least," Terald said. "It doesn't have to be real."
"Hmmm…" The man considered that for a moment. "Call me Hat and call her Hatkid."
"All right, then," Terald said through a chuckle. "Hat and Hatkid it is."
"What is the objective?" the man asked, his warmth turning serious.
"The Queen needs a husband," Terald answered. "A powerful one to counter unrest at home."
"Let me guess. He's a Hicaron."
"How did you guess?" Terald asked.
"Many, many letters passed through me to Kandum over the Winter," Hat answered and chewed thoughtfully. "It's not as easy now. He's not in Kandum. He's in Hicares. There's a war."
"I know."
"I do know where he is, but…" Hat paused, chewing some more, looking at his daughter. "I don't have anyone who can leave here for any other place than Kandum right now, and even that person must be back within a few days of leaving."
"Is it a lost cause?" Terald asked, disappointment sweeping over him.
"No, I have a solution," Hat answered and sighed. "It's just not something I want to do. It will have to be me. I'm the only one with this much freedom of movement."
"Your daughter…" Terald began, glancing over at the little girl playing in the next room, and Hat nodded. "It's not safe in Hicares right now."
"Which is why she will have to stay with her mother."
"I hear you talking about me!" the girl called out. "I don't want to go back to Momma's right now! Her new baby is so loud!"
"You'll have to get used to your new brother, eventually," Hat called back to her. "You've spent too long away from your mother and siblings already."
"You don't want me here!" she yelled, storming back up the stairs.
"I'll be back," Hat said to Terald, following his daughter up the stairs.
Terald sat uncomfortably, finishing off his delicious meal and drinking in his surroundings again. This was a messy man; not in an obvious way but in a metaphorical way. His personal life swept him up in drama, and he complicated that even further with political intrigue. Terald couldn't understand the man's motivations, but they must have been compelling. Nothing trivial would cause a man to leave behind such comfort and affection to search for others in a war-torn country. After some time passed, the man descended with a sad expression across his face.
"I will need a day to get things in order," Hat said. "I know a man who can smuggle us by boat. From what I hear, it's an unusually hot Spring up there. Dress accordingly."
Terald nodded. "My dinner was delicious," Terald said, pushing away from the table. "I am grateful for your help and hospitality, but it looks like maybe you need to spend some time alone with your daughter."
"Yes," Hat replied, "I would appreciate having some time with her. Look for me at the market before dawn in two days. I'll wear the hat."
"Until then," Terald said, shaking the man's hand. When he exited Hat's home, it struck him all over again how lifeless this Serenchean city was. The man's home acted as a gateway to another world entirely.
Leading up to departure day, he focused on packing. He attended one party just to keep any suspicions about him at bay. He looked for a yellow hat, but unsurprisingly saw none. The man was busy with his own preparations and with his daughter. Still, he felt disappointed. Questions swam in his head about the child and the man's personal life. He didn't think he would get answers to any of them, and the mystery intrigued him.
Terald decided to skip sleeping that night, afraid he wouldn't wake up in time to get to market. When it was three hours past midnight, he decided to grab his bag and slip off. In the coolness of that hour, the steam from the still operating factories swirled around him in a sulfuric fog. Even at this hour, there were people awake, forced to work to make the sleeping nobility even more wealthy. He really couldn't wait to be free of this country, but he also felt terrible for the people here. No one deserved to live like this. He wished there was anything he could do about it at all.
He saw Hat right away. In the dark, that pop of yellow acted as a beacon. Hat motioned for Terald to follow him, which he did swiftly and silently. A rowboat waited at the harbor to take them to a smuggler's ship a little farther away. They sat so still and quiet that Terald feared the oars' rhythmic sound against the water would lull him to sleep. To keep his thoughts from shifting into a dream, he studied Hat's face. The man looked back at the city, a melancholy expression on his face. He was risking his life and leaving his daughter behind. Terald felt grateful for his help but wondered why this mattered so much to him. He thought about asking but then realized that he definitely wouldn't learn his story if he couldn't even get the man's real name.
When they reached the smuggler's ship, a crewmember gave them a small room to share below deck. The cramped space contained one bed and very little room to put their bags, but it would have to do. They had to get to Hicares without any detection, and that was going to be difficult.
"Sorry for the state of our…accommodations…" Hat said, looking around the room, clearly dubious. "The captain has worked for me in the past many times. So, I'm sure we will be fine."
"I've slept in worse," Terald said.
"You?" Hat scoffed. "Mr. Fancy?"
"Is that what you think of me?" Terald asked and laughed. "Well, I suppose all the royal money spent on my wardrobe was worth it."
"Maybe you just make anything look good," Hat said with a crooked smile. "I meant what I said at the party. We could do more than just talking about the mission."
"Like what?" Terald asked as if he hadn't been perfectly aware of what Hat insinuated.
"You look like you would be fun to taste," Hat whispered, running a finger along Terald's jawline.
"I…I…can't."
"Why not?" Hat asked, not looking convinced by Terald's words.
"I love someone else," Terald admitted and watched Hat's smile turn a little sad.
"I see." Hat nodded. "That must be nice, having someone to love."
"Sometimes," Terald replied, "but you must know what that's like."
"No. I don't let myself get that close to anyone but my daughter. It's pretty selfish of me to keep her that close as it is."
Terald's heart broke a little for the mysterious man. As much as it hurt losing Brence and his priest brothers, he still felt thankful that he had the opportunity to allow love into his life. They settled into their bed, which was just big enough for the two slender men to fit into it together. It was no surprise when Terald woke up the next morning to feel their limbs entwined in discomfort.
"Um…Hat?" Terald said groggily. "Get up. I can feel your…um…"
"What?" Hat said in confusion, his eyes coming unglued. "Pecu, my entire body hurts."
It was then that Hat realized how their bodies pressed together and what Terald just implied. He got up in a panic, blushing profusely. Terald let an enormous sigh of relief, his body bending in human ways at last.
"I am so sorry," Hat apologized. "That was not intentional."
"It happens." Terald laughed. "I've been there, too."
"After what you said last night," Hat continued. "I don't want you to think that I'm going to push you into cheating on your love."
"Even if we made love right now, I wouldn't be cheating on Brence," Terald replied, his eyes beginning to water up. "He died. Malphesent killed him."
"Recently?" Hat asked, moving closer, wanting to comfort Terald.
"About six months ago," Terald answered. "I'm not fancy. I'm a priest, a healer. Brence was important, though. He was Malphesent's assistant until…until he fell in love with me. I'm the reason he's dead."
"Pecu…" Hat whispered. "It's not your fault. No one should die for who they love."
"You know," Terald said, wiping a tear off the corner of his small smile, "for a spy, you're very much the nurturing type. I can't figure you out at all."
"I'm just a whirlwind," Hat said and laughed. "I can't even figure myself out."
"Yes, I sense that about you, too."
The captain planned on making multiple stops along the coastline, and they wouldn't be in Hicares for at least another day. They had nothing to do but sit around their cramped room and keep each other company. Hat pulled a deck of cards out of his bag. Terald became well-versed in card play as Lady Pleffort's assistant. However, Hat still had the superior skill and bested Terald multiple times.
"I'm tired of this game." Terald pouted while Hat laughed. "Let's trade stories. Doesn't have to be our own, just any kind of stories."
Hat considered that a moment and agreed. To his own surprise, he volunteered to begin. He told Terald all about a traveling merchant from Kandum who made his rounds through a Serenchean city every Summer. Hat described how the merchant always seemed to come just in time for a certain little boy's birthday and always acted surprised at the coincidence as if he had forgotten. He would just happen to have a toy for this little boy and just happen to have an afternoon for the boy's mother. Then, the boy grew up to be tall and dark, looking so much like the merchant that the merchant stopped coming by that city entirely.
"You won't even give me your name," Terald said, shaking his head, "but you tell me all about your father?"
"How common is that story now?" Hat asked. "I bet that you could find a fair number of Serencheans with a similar one."
"I suppose you're right." Terald nodded but felt honored nonetheless.
It was definitely Hat's story, and, for some reason, he chose to tell it to Terald. Perhaps, it was to show why he cared so much for his daughter. Maybe, it was to give him some clue about his motivations. Whatever the reason, it was clear that Hat wanted to let someone close despite what he said earlier. So, Terald shared a personal story as well about his time with the Cult of Pecu. He told him all about the Great Library and the brotherhood he found with his fellow priests.
Hat watched in awe while Terald described this world so far away from Serenchea. It was hard for him to imagine some of the things Terald said. He asked so many questions from how villages worked to what it was like eating fruit from a tree. Terald found his childlike wonder utterly endearing. For a few moments, Pescel was full of many happy memories for him, and a genuine smile came to his lips.
"I can't wait to live there with Hatkid." Hat sighed. "She would love to be able to splash around in the waves and enjoy the sunshine."
"You're planning on moving?" Terald asked.
"Yes." Hat smiled. "Lord Pleffort promised me that he would send us after the next mission. So, I expect he'll be sending me information after this."
Terald's beaming face darkened. No one told Lord Pleffort's contacts about his death. This was why Hat had been willing to risk his life and part from his daughter.
"What is it?" Hat asked, seeing Terald's mood shift.
"Lord Pleffort. He died. I am the new Lord of Spies. I'm not sure how he set that up. He didn't leave any instructions…"
"For fear of them getting found by the wrong person…" Hat said, sinking his head into his hands. Muffled by his palms, Hat whimpered soft, defeated sobs that come naturally to the lifelong oppressed. "I've been fortunate. I wasn't born into slavery. I was allowed to work as an entertainer for the elite. My daughter's mother, on the other hand…If I don't get us to Pescel in the next year, Hatkid must start her life at the factories."
"She's so young!" Terald cried, thinking about the suspicious little thing that wanted to play with her dolls instead of eating.
"Children have small, nimble fingers and can crawl into difficult places," Hat explained.
Terald's wanted to cry now, too. Instead, he put his hand on Hat's and squeezed it. "I will figure out a way," he promised. "If we can find a prince in the middle of a war, we can surely get your daughter out of this."
"It's more difficult than most think." Hat laughed bitterly.
"Then, I will have to do everything in my newfound power."
The two locked eyes and something overcame Terald. He tenderly stroked Hat's face, wanting to see his bright expression once again. Hat leaned into the hand and laid a gentle peck on Terald's wrist. It became apparent to Terald that he felt something more than an attraction for this man now. He developed feelings, and he wasn't even sure he knew who exactly this man was. For the rest of their journey, there was a tenderness between them. It was a shy bond, full of gentle touches and kind words, nothing more. Yet, the heat built between them, and Terald knew he either had to douse this or let it ignite one day.
When the ship arrived within sight of Hicares, Terald and Hat got into the rowboat once again. One of the crew rowed into a small sea cave, which had an exit above they could climb through. Hat went through first and then pulled Terald through the opening. A breathtakingly beautiful scene greeted them, with green mountains and rocky crags as far as the eye could see.
"I had no idea such a small country was like this," Terald whispered in awe.
"There's nothing to see for miles," Hat replied. "No homes, no shops, no people."
"Not many people live here," Terald said. "It's always been a country for farmers and mountain folk. Still, you'd think land this beautiful would see more souls."
"Perhaps, it did once."
Hicares had been at war for years now. First, Hicares defended against a Pescelean attack. Now, Kandum swept in to drive Pescel out. It sobered them both that a pastoral, serene place like this acted as the setting for so much bloodshed.
"Where to next?" Terald asked.
"Now, we head North West," Hat answered. "The last word we heard from our spies in Kandum indicated that the Hicaron brothers would be heading South from there. They'll be with troops. So, they shouldn't be difficult to spot from a distance."
It seemed like an impossibility to Terald, but he nodded. They traveled on foot, neither of them equipped to camp nor fight, but somehow they had to finish this mission. The fate of a child rested on their shoulders.